


(Suits) Torn Apart

by BrightsideIsMyMiddleName



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Harry Hart Lives, IF YOU IGNORE THE SOULMATES PART:, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, except for you know:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 17:04:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9773513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightsideIsMyMiddleName/pseuds/BrightsideIsMyMiddleName
Summary: “Sometimes I think you do it on purpose,” Anthony says, shaking his head at the ruined three button jacket of the suit.Harry huffs, pretending to be way more apologetic than he actually was, “I would never.”“Don't listen to him,” James pipes up, walking down the stairs. “According to Merlin, he does it so his soulmate can recognize him.”OR the soulmates AU that you have the first thing your soulmate says to you written on your skin. Harry is one of the lucky bastards with a unique phrase, while Eggsy has heard his phrase a few times. See?It's not as perfect as it seems.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by bastille's torn apart (you should listen to the amazing version with violins and shit that there's on youtube, not the pop version one bc wtf bastille)
> 
> what else? idk, enjoy

_We were born to be together_

_Torn apart, torn apart_

_Oh, your mark on me_

_You're out of sight, but not out of my mind_

Bastille – Torn apart

 

Harry was seven when it became legible. According to his parents, the handwriting was atrocious (which, according to the Cambridge dictionary, meant ' _of very bad quality_ ') and the phrase itself was proof that Harry would always be a disgrace (a word he didn't have to look up, because it was used way too often on the Hart's household).

He didn't care for what they said, however, because the words meant that he had a soulmate. One that find him _cool_. The circumstances of the meeting weren't going to be the best, clearly, but that didn't matter. They were soulmates! They could work past _anything_. Besides, Harry was lucky he got a very specific phrase. He would never confuse his soulmate for anyone else, like those poor people who have phrases like “hi” or “good morning” written on their bodies.

 _Besides,_ now he had plenty of time to think of an awesome reply just so his soulmate could recognize him just as easily.

Harry never felt so lucky.

Which, to say the least, was the opposite of how his parents felt. Mr. and Mrs. Hart were starting to feel like they were jinxed. His son was not what they expected him to be. Even in such a young age, Harry was disobeying, always running late, clearly uncaring about money and tradition, and now his soulmate---

His soulmate was in such a low rank in society that he used the word _guv_.

They weren't happy about it, of course, but even if they were snobs – which Harry would call them ever since he learned the word – they wouldn't try and change whoever was worth their son's affections. They wouldn't force his son into marrying someone like their parents did with them.

Some mistakes you don't repeat.

//

Eggsy's mom laughed until she cried when she read Eggsy's words and his father… well, he pretty much did the same. At the age of six, the words sounded _horrible_ , but Michelle and Lee assured him they were meant to tease him.

His parents words weren't funny or common. Lee explained him about them like they were a statement of destiny's power and how some things are meant to be.

“ _I saw you and I had to come over to ask if I'm yours,”_ it was his father's cliché (but honest) words that echoed on Michelle's wrists.

“ _You're in luck,”_ she had replied with an easy smile, showing to him her mark.

Lee would tell their story whenever Eggsy asked for it, and Michelle would always get a gleam in her eyes like it was the first time she was hearing Lee talk about meeting her.

The thing was, Eggsy would learn the hard way that soulmates didn't mean happily ever after. His father died and his mom decided to drink away her pain, like Michelle forgot she and Eggsy were actually still alive. In the storm of pain that followed, the word soulmate became a curse on Eggsy's tongue. He'd call out the bullshit in films, snort at his friends' pursuit of their other half, and rub the silly words on his wrists until they were red and burning as if he could make them disappear.

He didn't want a soulmate just to lose them, or to be abandoned, or to be rejected or---

Eggsy had more than enough pain in his life.

//

“You're in the right line of work,” Merlin told him on his first day as an agent.

Harry raised his eyebrows in question. Those were literally the first words Merlin had said to him, and they came out of nowhere. Arthur had introduced them and told them they were supposed to be a team from them on not even two minutes ago, and Harry knew Merlin was just as new to this as he was.

“Really? Why so?”

Merlin nods meaningfully towards Harry's arm. “Your words. They sound like something a Kingsman agent would hear.”

Harry snorted, because, well. He would be lying if he said the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but it was very unusual to get someone commenting on your mark, specially because most people preferred to keep them hidden. Harry was an exception. He found comfortable in his words, so he kept them uncovered as much as possible, _but_ he wouldn't get past many people he knows to hire someone to say his words to him as a greeting just to 'have some fun'.

He saw someone go through that once, and it had been heartbreaking.

So, as much as he wanted to live with bare wrists, he forced himself to hid them.

“What are yours?,” Harry says, focusing back on the conversation at hand.

Merlin gave him a flat look. “I cover them for a reason.”

“So intrusive co-workers won't tell you whether or not you're in the right line of work solely based on your mark?,” Harry counters with a faux-innocent smile.

They stared at each other in silence. Harry knew way too well that Merlin was measuring him and years later, whenever he looked back, he knew that was the moment that defined their whole dynamic. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but then Merlin was sighing and taking off his watch. “I have a feeling you'll be a pain in my ass.”

Harry didn't bother to hide his smirk. Instead, he focused on the clearly feminine handwriting. _Baldy, you forgot your briefcase!_

He was thorn between laughing and wincing.

“Well, at least you'll have something to look forward to when you start losing your hair,” Harry offered.

Glaring, Merlin shook his head. “Definitely going to be a pain in my ass,” he stopped, and his eyes were suddenly slightly panicked. “Definitely the reason I'll go _bald_.”

//

When Eggsy got older, he understood why his parents laughed so much.

 _You're not too bad yourself_. The mark was classy and neat, which was a hilarious contrast with the phrase. And it was something so just like Eggsy to say something either offensive or flirty to his soulmate as a way of greeting.

Whoever they were, though, they seem to take it well enough, turning it into a joke. But even so, Eggsy still didn't want a soulmate. His hate for the fucking stupid idea only grew over the years. He had to watch Jamal suffering every Christmas, because he was one of the unlucky bastards with a _very_ common phrase.

 _A_ _re you looking for something in particular?_ was written on him, mocking him every time he entered a store.

It also meant that Jamal had to ask a thousand attendants if they were his one. Awful, and quite awkward. He got slapped twice, because instead of explaining, he begged them to show him their words. It should have been a bit funny, if the look on Jamal's face wasn't so devastating; his hopes being crushed right in front of his eyes, because Jamal was one of those people who desperately wanted to meet his other half.

As if to mock the three inseparable friends, Ryan had found his soulmate when he was ten. She had asked if he wanted one of her cookies, he said _oh my god, yes_ and they'd been together ever since. It was the only happy story Eggsy knew in real life, and sometimes he envied it. Which, made it hate the whole business even more, because there were days he and Jamal needed to go out without Ryan. See, Ryan tried, but he didn't _get_ that sometimes the whole system was unbearable – how could he?

Between his mom and Dean dating, and Jamal taking care alone of his young sister, because his mother died and his father bailed---- they couldn't stand the whole happy soulmate's picture, which Ryan had got so easily.

It was one of the things he could never talk about with him.

The others, well. Eggsy's life was spiralling down fast, he was getting involved with so much shit (fights, drugs, theft), thanks to Dean and the lack of fucking jobs around. He didn't know how to bring it up to the others, because he didn't want to pile up his life on them.

So when things were in the lowest, he would uncover his mark to read the words and try convince himself he wasn't all bad. _Not that bad_ , at least.

It was just getting harder to believe.

//

The first time Harry is near an explosion, he's twenty-three. He barely makes it out, and he's pretty sure part of his suit melted into his skin. It's the first time he ruins one of the Kingsman's suits, but he doesn't mind the earful he'll get, because all he can think about is that his soulmate must meet him any moment now.

He takes a taxi (“ _where to?”_ ) to the headquarters, where a new doctor exams him (“ _looks like_ _you_ _had a worst day than me”_ ) and when he gets home, his elderly neighbour glares at him.

No special words are told.

When he turns fifty-one, he has completely ruined seventy suits, got bloody in over two hundred, and lost over a thousand jackets/pants/socks/shoes. According to the head tailor, he holds the record of destroying and/or losing clothes by _a lot_ – something Harry knows he shouldn't feel proud of, but he is.

The only disappointment is: so far, no one said his words to him. Even Merlin, who had to wait his head turn shiny with no hair in sigh, has found his soulmate. It was getting to the point where there wasn't any hope left.

“Sometimes I think you do it on purpose,” Anthony says, shaking his head at the ruined three button jacket of the suit.

Harry huffs, pretending to be way more apologetic than he actually was, “I would never.”

“Don't listen to him,” James pipes up, walking down the stairs. “According to Merlin, he does it so his soulmate can recognize him.”

Anthony seems curious about it, with clear amusement shinning through his eyes. Harry rolls his eyes, but doesn't counter. He isn't wrong, after all. So Harry tells him about it.

“Well,” Anthony says, smiling fondly at him. “I hope they're worth the few millions Kingsman has spent on your suits.”

Harry knows they are, he just hopes he can _find_ them. He's so focused on that, he says goodbye to James without paying much attention.

Well, he's sure James will be back from Argentina any second now.

//

“I came over to say that me and the dementor in your shirt have something in common,” Eggsy smirks at the girl, who's watching him with her eyebrows raised. “We both give a killer kiss.”

She laughs, shaking her head at the lame line.

“Come on, don't I deserve a name? I really do like your shirt, Harry Potter lady, and you're very pretty.”

“You're not too bad yourself,” she replies teasingly, looking him up and down, while Eggsy's heart skips a beat.

Eggsy's too used to it by now, so he doesn't even really consider that she's his. That first line would have gotten him a very different reaction if she was. He's been through quite a few false alarms; the girl was actually the sixteenth person who said the right phrase, but wasn't his match.

Not that he was counting down to his soulmate or anything. Eggsy still didn't _want_ to find them, but he did want to get that over with, so his heart could stop racing every time someone replied to his one-liners.

He wanted to live his life without thinking about it. He wasn't that keen in relationships either, as a matter of fact. All he care about was that the girl was pretty and sexy, he wanted to get laid very badly – and, apparently, so did she.

That's why, less than an hour later, Eggsy was whistling as he made his way through London, walking back to his place. Less horny, quite settled, thinking of nothing in particular. Hopefully Dean would have gone to bed by the time he got home, and, if Daisy was up, they could watch a few cartoons until she fell asleep. It was a surprisingly good and uneventful night, which was something Eggsy wasn't used to.

Of course, something weird had to happen.

AKA a guy, dressed in a suit that was pretty much torn apart walking towards him with a grace that shouldn't be possible in such terrible state. Eggsy supposes that if the thing wasn't falling apart, it would be quite expensive. Probably _very_ expensive, considering how posh the man wearing it looked – even if he's hair was all over the place and there was definitely blood on his cheek and in his suit, the man's black glasses were in place, framing clearly attentive eyes, as if that's all that really mattered. He was walking as if he had fought a lion and survived.

Fuck that, he looked like he had fought a lion, won and was ready to fuck up the first person who dared say he didn't look _pristine_.

Eggsy couldn't hold his tongue at such sight.

“You look like James Bond in the end of a very messy fight, guv, and your suit clearly paid the price.”

//

Harry froze in place, and his face broke into a smile without permission. His right wrist ached at how desperately Harry wanted to expose it, to look at the words he had just heard. The words he had memorized, and made him watch all Bond movies, when he was a kid.

_You look like James Bond in the end of a very messy fight, guv, and your suit clearly paid the price._

He had came up with a thousand responses to that. When he was younger they were witty and funny, turning flirty on his twenties, but by forty-five it all was coming down to _what took you so long?._ Now, at fifty-two, he was gaping at his soulmate, because he found himself speechless. The boy--man, yes, he was barely a man, but a man, nevertheless. Maybe twenty, but not younger than that. Brown hair, eyes that Harry couldn't quite decide which colour, and a _horrifying_ sense of fashion. And, above it all, _his._

Which, now his soulmate was staring at him with worry in his eyes, so Harry's brain fought to reply as quickly as possible, but sadly landing on the so overused:

“You're not too bad yourself.”

Laughing, as if it was an old inside joke, his soulmate replied, “I get that a lot.”

And then---- _nothing_. His soulmate wasn't asking him a thousand questions, or looked happy at all. To him, it looked like another interaction with a perfect stranger, to Harry's despair, because that was _unsettling_. Harry painted so many scenarios over the years, including rejection, but he never imagined that his soulmate simply wouldn't _recognize_ him.

“You alright, bruv? You have blood all over you and you do look like you just fought through hell and back.”

Most of the blood wasn't his and he had no idea what to say. He knew that he wanted more time to talk to his soulmate, anything to make him notice, or even _like_ Harry a little, so he lied.

“I'm a bit lost, could you help me walk to the tube?,” which he knew was ten blocks away, and gave him some time to properly meet his soulmate. Harry just hoped he would accept it.

His soulmate raised his eyebrows, but then shrugged. “I have nothing better to do, and it's a nice night, so what the hell, right?” Harry smiled like an idiot. “By the way, who the fuck are you, mate? And what's the story? Uh, I'm Eggsy, by the way.”

Eggsy asked him in such a casual playful tone, like they were old mates, meeting for the first time in a while.

Harry smiles mischievously and tries to impress the boy.

//

Number seventeenth apparently was named Harry Hart and worked as a spy. Eggsy didn't know whether or not he should believe it, specially considering how much humour Harry had on his voice as he told him the story of how he came to be in such state, but everything Harry said sounded cool, incredible and, for some reason, Eggsy _believed_ him.

Worst than that, he felt a connection to the man, like he was----

Eggsy didn't want to say it. He _refused_ to say it.

“You sound like that's always happening to you, bruv,” Eggsy comments when Harry finishes his story. “And if it does, I'm not sure you're a good spy. The whole point is being discreet, innit?”

Harry smiles, indulging him. “Maybe. It does happen a lot, but movies make it all seem such a mathematical problem. Humans are complicated, thus so are missions.”

Eggsy looked away, thinking of how much he could related to _humans are complicated_.

“Yeah, humans fuck up a lot, that I know.”

“Ohh, there's a story there.”

Eggsy snorts. His life story isn't fabulous, funny or interesting. It's realistic and sad, and he doesn't want to ruin the evening talking about it. “I wouldn't mind telling you all the crazy badass stuff I get into, but I don't want to make you feel bad about your boring life,” he says with a fake-sigh.

Harry laughs at his lame joke, and the raised eyebrow Eggsy gets from him is a fascinating view.

“Really?,” the tone is amused and light.

Eggsy shakes his head. “Between me and you, after your adventure, guv, I kinda feel like anything I say will be a huge let down.”

“Nonsense,” Harry dismisses it with a wave of his hand. “I'm sure your stories are just as interesting, only different.”

He's about to reply when he sees a sad look on Harry's face and then realizes they're standing right next to the subway station. Ten freaking blocks passed by and Eggsy didn't even feel it, because he was so focused on how much of a good time he was having.

What the _fucking fuck_?

“Guess we don't have time for that talk,” Eggsy jokes.

Harry gives him a small smile, and then clears his throat, “thank you for bringing me here.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes. “No worries. I still have no idea how a spy like you don't know how to walk around London, tho. Horrible Bond, I'm telling you.”

“You're quite right,” Harry says and then they're staring at each other. It feels so charged and sad, for reasons Eggsy can't even begin to understand. So he stands there, looking into brown, way too smart eyes, trying to come up with something clever to say. Or anything that doesn't sound like an ending to an epic night.

A group of drunk teenagers pass by then, and suddenly they're looking away.

“I'll see ya around, yeah, guv?,” Eggsy says regretfully, not looking back at Harry, because he doesn't want to say goodbye. Not now, not _yet_. He feels like he hasn't gotten enough of the night, and he can't quite believe anything that happened and--- he still refuses to say it out loud.

Eggsy sees that Harry is nodding, and he seems more closed-off than he did all night.

“I'll see you around, Eggsy.”

He winks at Harry, trying to somehow lighten the sudden mournful mood, and starts walking away, but then he turns around. “Hey, Harry!”

Which wasn't exactly necessary, because Harry hadn't move one bit. Eggsy gets a surprise look, and he counts it as a win, because Harry doesn't seem the kind of guy you can easily surprise.

“I just wondered, if you would give me your number, yeah? You're the guv'ner with the spy shit and all, and I kinda want to talk to you again?,” he asks rubbing his his neck, and he bets his red as fuck. “If you want to, I mean.”

Harry smiles. “I'd love to.”

And that's how Eggsy walks away with Harry's number in his pocket, and the feeling that good shit would happen in his life.

He feels _invincible._

So he acts like an idiot and gets hiss arse arrested the following night, because Eggsy simply had had one good day, life doesn't change like that in a second.

Oh well, at least his mom gave him the medal that supposedly could help.

It wouldn't hurt to call.

**Author's Note:**

> Have I ever been to London? Nop. Do I want to? Desperately. Do I have a huge book that talks about London streets and turists shit that I could have used to make this? Yes. Did I use it? Nop, so it's probably not likely that they would have to walk ten blocks to get to wherever OR that Eggsy would walk as much as he did here, BUT i live in a city with horrible public transport system, so i'm gonna write this based on my life and not call it a plot hole yo
> 
> Do I speak English? Not really, as you probably deduced. /sigh/ and it's not beta'd. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!!!...slightly late. (Fun fact: it only happens in my country in june, because no one dates in february in Brazil because of carnival (sounds like a joke, but it's actually serious), but I thought I should make something. i only finished it late, and i'll post chap 2 next week)
> 
> Hope it didn't suck. Be awesome and let me know what you think? Pretty please?
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [ ~also, i found out about this extension for ao3: and I'm so pumped about it cause it makes it easier to leaves comments/do shit here, and it's also the adress to my tumblr account, so 2 rabbits one stone yadayada ](http://kingmieczyslaw.tumblr.com/post/157103289516/tehnakki-ravenel-i-saw-this-post-by)


End file.
